Setting is during the witch hysteria that broke out over Salem, Massachusetts in the late 1600s.From Chapter 22: Under the Hanging Tree. Most of it is similiar to what Ann Rinaldi wrote mainly to say I shortened her chapter with the same train of conversa

Author's
Note: This
is a FanFiction of A
Break With Charity
by Ann Rinaldi. If you find this story interesting, then I would
suggest you go straight to the library and check out her book. Sure
it's historical fiction, but let me warn you, the character
development and human doings in this book would astound even the
people who hate history. 100 serious!

Setting is during the
witch hysteria that broke out over Salem, Massachusetts in the late
1600s.From Chapter 22: Under the Hanging Tree. Most of it is
similiar to what Ann Rinaldi wrote (mainly to say I shortened her
chapter with the same train of conversations..just in shorter terms
(my words) and some changes), but in Chapter Four, I did something
different.

Light
in the Shadows

Chapter
One

Every
creepy sound that rose to my ears asked me why I could ever be so
stupid enough to come to this godforsaken place. Every groan of the
old tree I leaned against sent my mind reeling back to that cloudless
day when Rebecca Nurse and Bridget Bishop swung from this same tree.

I
drew my knees into my chest, shrinking myself into as small a ball as
I could possibly manage. I made nary a sound in this process. Eyes
were staring at me from the woods. They glowed in the dark. Any other
day, my mind would have registered these eyes as deer eyes, but today
my mind thought otherwise. They were the evil eye.

I
crawled deeper inside myself, searching for pleasant memories that
would drive the pain away. There were none. Ever since the beginning
of the circle of girls, I knew there was something inescapably wrong
with them. Remembering now how I always wished to join that circle, I
now shiver. It is because of that circle of girls that our Salem
Village comes to a cease. Where before each day draws on long and
boring, now crowds gather at Ingersoll's Tavern to hear news of the
next witch. Each day, the girls are brought here to perform their
acts. And I know they are only acts.

I
groan now when the tantalizing breeze tugs a strand of my hair free
from its bondage. Where is Johnathan? He was late. Oh. If he isn't
coming in one more minute I am going to march straight out of this
place. I am going to march through the dirt road I have come through,
and I will go straight home where Joseph and Elizabeth Putnam offered
me shelter during this time of chaos.

See,
my family all fled when Ann Putnam accused my mother of being a
witch. She didn't stop there. She went on to my father, and Mary,
who is just about to marry Thomas Hutchinson, escaped with mother and
father fearing for her arrest. But I feared no one. I stayed.
Inside, I felt that all this was my fault. The witch trial, I
mean. How? I don't know. But I do know that I am part of it. A play
doesn't work if only the main characters rattle along on the stage.
All players must cooperate. I am a player. …And I'm afraid. Dead
scared.

The
dark is drawing closer now, and more owls coo in the distance. They
screech "Who? Who?" I shiver. It were almost as if they were
convicting the next witches. "Who? Who? Who?" Who would be next?
Who else would die before this witch hysteria is over? Who? I stifled
a sob when no other sound met me other than my own labored breathing.
Where is Johnathan?! I clenched and unclenched my dress, crumpling
the fabric. But for all my nervousness, Johnathan didn't come.

Just
then, the glorifying sound of carriage wheels pounded into the dirt
road accompanied by the braying of mules. My heart skipped a beat.
Johnathan. I stood up and peered into the darkness. From the scant
light I had, I saw a bobbing light in the distance. Yes, there he
was. Sitting there in the front of the carriage. I ran down the hill,
running until I could run no more. There I waited for Johnathan.

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